Two worrying days later and Hermione's condition had improved considerably. She was fully awake and speaking coherently again. Harry was astounded by Abby's potion brewing skills as she continued to supply them with potions for Hermione and was essential in her recovery.
The students were planned to return the next day which incredibly concerned Harry. He knew he should have told Dumbledore but that would mean confessing to the creation of the Polyjuice Potion which he knew would cause complete chaos and devastation. Instead, he decided to remain silent but to keep a wary eye out for strange behaviour by anyone who remained in the castle during the Christmas holidays.
"So what have we got?" Hermione asked. She was still occupying his bed, her back propped against three oversized pillows. Her face was still rather pale but overall she appeared quite healthy. She held up her hand and ticked points off her fingers. "Three students were attacked supposedly by this Heir of Slytherin. Another student is being controlled for some reason."
"More than one student has been possessed. Remember Roger Davies attacked Harry but he was in the hospital wing when you were attacked and we were all nearly poisoned," Ron interjected thoughtfully.
"True," Hermione replied, reconsidering her tack. "Okay so students are being attacked and controlled. Also there souls are being…stolen, for lack of a better word. Nobody yet seems immune to the threat."
"Yeah…I heard Nearly Headless Nick was attacked the same time Justin was. I haven't seen him around. Supposedly the teachers are trying to cover it up cause I mean if a ghost was attacked…" Ron interrupted incredulously letting the sentence drift into the middle of their already troubled thoughts.
"The school won't be allowed to remain open if this continues," Harry warned. "If the media gets wind of this Hogwarts will be over. The governors will be notified if it happens again and they'll probably refuse to allow students in the castle. Families will cause an uproar…a lot of people will lose their trust in Dumbledore."
"We can hardly catch the culprit ourselves," laughed Ron ironically. "It sounds bad but I'm just waiting for someone to be killed. It will undoubtedly happen…whoever is doing this is capable of murder."
"Then again we can't just do nothing," Hermione responded, shifting against her pillows slightly. "I refuse to just sit back and watch people be hurt." Her eyes shone fervently showing how passionate she was about helping others. "And I know you both enough to know you feel the same," she added confidently peering at both of them.
"Of course we do," they both chorused in return. Ron got languidly to his feet. "I'm gonna go nick some food from the Great Hall. Any requests?"
"Chicken," Hermione answered instantly.
"I'm not hungry," Harry started. Hermione's head shot towards him. "You have to eat, Harry," she cautioned.
"Fine…chicken," he conceded. Ron nodded and tramped out the door. They listened to his lazy footsteps thump down the staircase and then fade.
Not for the first time in the last week Harry raked his fingers through his mop of black hair, clutching the ends tightly in his fist. His frustration was building rapidly, with the castle, the students and the attacks. He placed his head in his hands and exhaled slowly. He felt completely overwhelmed.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I can't even explain what's happening." His words were muffled in his hands. His eyes were red from where he rubbed them. His voice held a desperation that unnerved Hermione. Climbing to the side of the bed, she reached out and removed his hands from his face. It was so unlike him to show or even feel emotion such as this. She knew that her ordeal over the past few days was also adding to Harry's problems and did not lessen his self flagellation or burden.
She had no words of comfort and so just wrapped her arms around his head in hope of just calming him. He gripped her waist tightly, clinging to her comfort. He did not shed a tear, he was not sure if he was capable of doing so. After a few moments of wordless soothing, Harry stood to his feet and gave Hermione a proper hug causing her to smile slightly into his shoulder. "I'm sor…"
"Don't Harry. You have no reason to apologise," she told him firmly, pulling away from him. He grinned, lightening her heart and then ushered her back under the covers.
"Give it time Harry. I'm sure we will find some answer. Or some clue in the right direction."
"I just hope we find time before we run out of it."
***************************************
The students returned. Harry found that their spirits had risen during their remission from the darkness of the castle. Classes started back immediately, much to a healthier Hermione's delight. Harry offered to carry her bag but she refused, wishing for him to just stop worrying about her.
January clawed slowly by and even though the monotony was palpable at times, Harry was overjoyed by the fact that nobody had been attacked. The students patience grew thin as the homework load increased dramatically. Teachers were already mentioning end of year examinations at the beginning of a frosty February. Ron had met a new girl from Hufflepuff, Susan Bones. Harry thought she was nice, pleasant and quiet. He noted how unlike Lavender she was and Hermione informed him later that Lavender was now going out with Seamus.
A week before Valentines Day, `a commercial offence' Hermione had named it, and the students excitement grew at the prospect of unrequited love and theatrical displays of affection. All Harry knew of Valentines Day were the colours pink and red, also the ultimate symbol of cupid's heart.
Harry had remained suspicious of Ginny much to Hermione's silent displeasure. Her erratic behaviour was a constant source of worry for him. At times he found her chatting spiritedly with her friends and at others she had confined herself into a corner of the library, alone and without books. She seemed to be just brooding almost sulking. She was anxious, the constant wringing of hands a reminder of that. Every so often he watched her eyes dart stealthily around the Great Hall while she ate as if she knew there was someone watching.
Another large aspect of Ginny's life that Harry discovered was that she always seemed to be writing in a small weather-beaten book. He speculated what it could be and found that all conjectures lead to the conclusion that it was a diary. He made a firm decision that he had to know what she had written in its pages.
He was sure that Ginny was involved in the attacks somehow. Hermione had encouraged him to believe there were still clues and he knew that diary was one of them.
One day as he left the back of the library he spotted her jotting down something in the small diary. Taking a deep breath of conviction he strode over to her table which was piled with unused books, obviously to ensure nobody was watching.
"Hey," he said loudly, destroying the silence. He pulled out a chair and ignored the scandalized look Madam Pince gave him as the scraping echoed throughout the library.
Ginny looked momentarily shocked and before Harry had a chance to even glance at the diary she had thrust it into her flowery schoolbag. He fruitlessly tried to catch her eye but she was having none of it. Her chin muscles bunched as her face took on the effect of her resolute mind. She was not going to speak.
"Ginny," he started, and then stopped not knowing what to say. His eyes left her face and he rubbed his hands together nervously under the table. "I…eh…how are you?" he asked stupidly.
For the first time she looked up at him. Her blue eyes were weary and her face drawn. "Why?" she muttered inaudibly but he caught the word.
"I just wondered. You seemed a bit off lately. Is it just being in first year or…?"
"No." Her eyes hardened into an intense gaze and he found it unnerving.
"So what is it?"
"Did Ron send you? Is that why you're here?" There was a touch of contempt in her voice as if she rued that the only reason he spoke to her was because Ron asked her to.
"No…I was worried that…"
"Really," she interrupted, wonder in her voice. "You…you were worried about me?"
"Well…er…it was just that you seemed to be struggling with something," he stammered, not wanting to lead her on or give off the impression that he was interested in the same way she was.
"I have." She stated abruptly. The confidence in her usually feeble voice made his heart skip a beat. Was this where he was supposed to push?
Involuntarily he leaned forward. "Ginny…what do you know?"
"A lot." She grinned darkly and Harry could almost see something else enter her now shining eyes. "I know a lot." And then she laughed coldly, placing a hand across her forehead as if feeling for a temperature. He could barely see her face but listened as her manic laughing turned into a strangled moan. Tears spilled from under the palms of her hands. Her sobbing grew louder as she choked out. "I don't…don't want t…"
She shuddered then spoke again. "There is nothing you can do to stop me, Harry." The voice was not Ginny's but used her mouth. It caused Harry's blood to run cold, hollow but saturated in hate. Ginny's body snapped with rigidity and then she slumped from the chair and down onto the ground in a heap of robes.
Harry did not react immediately, still stunned by what had just happened. Then he crouched down and apprehensively turned Ginny around. "Oh my head," she groaned painfully.
"W…what the hell was that?" he breathed pulling her roughly to her feet. All patience and weariness left his rational thought. He was incensed at what had just happened. It had obviously been happening for quite awhile and she had not spoken to anybody about it.
"I d…don't kno…"
"Yes you do, Ginny. Yes you do. Don't lie." He gripped her arm tightly and she whined and tried to pull away but could not. After another frail attempt she beat against his chest with her fist. "Let me go…"
"No, who…what was that?"
"Just leave me alone!"
A startled and infuriated Madam Pince, hearing Ginny's strangled protests, came bounding around a book shelf.
"Let go of her this instant!" Madam Pince's fierce voice was not enough to break Harry's fuming interrogation. She removed her wand from inside her mauve robes and pointed it in his direction. "Do as I said!"
"Where are they now? Where is it gone Ginny? Is it still here?" Harry's mind was quickly trying to catch fully onto the situation. Whatever had just possessed Ginny could easily jump into the next person. He needed to find it before it latched onto someone else. "WHERE GINNY?!"
"It's not here!" she cried at him distraughtly. He released her from his grip and stormed out into the corridor that preceded the library as if expecting to just see a possessed person attacking somebody. There were two loitering students waiting patiently as a friend obtained a book from the library but nothing more. Harry's forehead was sweaty as were his palms. Rivulets of perspiration were running down the sides of his face and his breath was coming in gasps.
"Are you okay, Harry?"
He twisted around to see Ron wearing a nervous expression. Harry unwillingly glanced in the direction of a crying Ginny being consoled by Madam Pince. Ron followed his gaze his face becoming more uneasy. "What's going on?"
Madam Pince glared at Harry and Ron instantly flew off the handle. "What did you do to my sister?" he roared as Harry's eyes swiveled to meet his.
"Nothing…listen Ron she knows something that…"
Ron pushed him forcefully against the wall as he raged past him into the library to his weeping younger sister. Sure Harry was slightly ashamed that he had been so aggressive with Ginny but that was the only way he was going to get anything out of her.
"Hey man you can't just go and beat up some first year whenever you feel like it," said one of the lingering students. He was unusually tall and spoke with an Irish accent. His companion nodded his head in agreement and Harry could not help but laugh harshly.
"Is it one of you?" It could be anybody.
"What are you talking about?" the Irish boy chuckled in his baritone voice. He shook his wide head in disbelief at the dishevelled appearance of Harry. "Saviour my arse."
Again Harry laughed this time more to himself. He felt an overwhelming feeling of queasiness and stumbled as he tried to leave.
Inside the library Ron was trying to calm Ginny but she continually evaded his attempts and kept muttering. "No…no…he doesn't hurt with me. Stay with me." Ron was utterly baffled at her words. She was not talking about Harry but kept her eyes fixed on the floor. Madam Pince decided she would call Madam Pomfrey.
Outside Harry gripped his head with both hands, his view swimming from side to side. He palmed the wall with his hand to try and guide himself. He needed to speak with Dumbledore, to tell him about Ginny, about what she knew. But something seemed to be clouding him.
No, he thought frantically, not in me.
A boy left the library a book held under his arm. "What the hell is going on?" he voiced as he followed his friends eyesight to the struggling Harry. He took a hesitant step towards him. He seemed to be retching, clawing at his robes as if trying to rid himself of something. "Hey Eddie man…I don't think you should touch him."
The blonde haired boy turned to his friends with a worried expression on his face. Placing the book on the floor he said "We can't just leave him. There's definitely something wrong with him."
Inside Harry's head his thoughts were ricocheting against his skull. Bodiless voices were chanting at him through the darkness of his closed eyes. They screamed mercilessly, ripping his mind to pieces. He tried to block them out but they were erasing his voice. He tried yelling but his throat felt constricted.
As Eddie touched his shoulder he spun around. His face was flushed with the pressure of trying to speak, sweat now drenching his hair and the neck of his robes. He could not make out Eddie's face. It was just a blurred figure and he did not know whether it was an enemy or not. No, a voice whispered, the enemies in you. You are the enemy.
From her tiny office within the library Madam Pince had sent an urgent message to Madam Pomfrey and for good measure to Professor Dumbledore. She hurried back out to attend to Ginny as best she could but Ginny was now hysterically pleading with some invisible force.
Unwillingly Harry's hand reached inside his robes and withdrew his wand. Let's have some fun, the terrifying voice hissed.
He felt like he was trapped in his body, in a corner of his mind, watching events unfold that he could not stop. He watched petrified as his arm straightened out before him. Eddie stepped back immediately, his face turning from worry to horror. Harry's eyes were bloodshot and his pupils were becoming paler by the second. His lip was bleeding from where he had bit down on it while trying to rid himself of this horrible evil.
Dumbledore appeared around the corner and halted instantly. His face dropped all pretence and anxiety and fear danced in his eyes at the sight of the demented young wizard.
Harry felt his arm shift slightly into the direction of a more distinct figure. No…please god no. Stop please…I can't do this…
He found himself forcing his mind to take control. The pressure in his head seemed to multiply and his rigid arm shook furiously. He felt himself take the first step against the presence in his mind. His whole body shook with the effort; he thought the elevating pressure in his head would surely kill him. His muscles grew taut under his robes and he furiously gritted his teeth. No, he thought wrathfully, I will not hurt him.
He heard another voice but it was not emanating from him. Dumbledore's voice sounded like a whisper in a gale wind.
A low rumbling started in the back of his throat and as he fought with all his concentration it became a fully fledged roar. He thought his burning throat would tear and could taste blood in the back of his mouth. A clattering sound indicated he had dropped his wand. Immediately Dumbledore approached him and Harry felt his mind thrown straight back into his body which was in agonizing pain. He inhaled deeply as he battled for air.
Consciousness ebbed away from him as his knees hit solid ground. The pain racked through his limbs and he struggled to reopen his eyes. As he felt his face touch the stone floor, hands found his back and turned him over.
"I ca…can't..see," he spluttered as blood ran down his chin. His throat was raw and burned.
"Harry you must stay awake," Dumbledore's voice broke through the tormenting pain. "Harry? Harry?!"
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